Jaune Torchwick
by Romulus Black Talon
Summary: Jaune was out of luck two day's before Beacon. Out of money, nowhere to go, he stays in an alley. It's just a small hurdle before he can become a hero, right? But when he investigates a gunshot late at night, he finds notorious criminal Roman Torchwick bleeding out. In the criminals last act, he unlocks Jaune's Aura. He didn't expect to end up in Jaune's mind.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, and welcome to the story. I would just like to put here a standard Disclaimer, I obviously do not own RWBY. Next I would like to credit College Fool and Couer Al'Alran for the idea behind this story. It comes from College Fool's "The Writer Games" Chapter 59. I do have permission from Couer Al'Alran to use it.

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When he had first left home for Beacon, he had thought he would stay in a nice, safe, comfy hotel. Sleep on a nice soft bed, and have decent food. And he had. For the first few nights. But then came the 'admittance fee' for the school, and suddenly he couldn't afford his room. There was little money left for food, and only if he got the cheapest of the cheap.

And so here he was, the would be hero, two days from Beacon and sleeping in a dirty alley.

Still, he could do this. He _would_ do this. He would sleep out here, on the could, dirty, alley floor. He would eat what meager food he could afford. And he would do it all with a smile, or at least a positive attitude, because this was just a single step in his journey. Everyone's story had start somewhere, and his started in this dirty alley behind a sandwich shop near the docs.

He checked his scroll for the time, idly noting it was half-way dead, and fought back a wince. It was a quarter till midnight. A friendly homeless woman, a dog Faunus, had told him earlier that it wasn't really safe to let your guard down till one in the morning. That's when the criminal element of the city tended to quiet down. She had apparently learned it the hard way.

He shifted the straps of the backpack he kept all his possessions in. Well, everything he had on him. He hadn't been able to bring everything when he left, not if he didn't want his parents to catch wind of his departure. Jaune didn't have much on him at the moment, but what he did have were thing's that he couldn't afford to lose. Not because they were valuable, though a few certainly were worth a good bit a lien, but because of what they meant to him.

He pulled the blanket he had borrowed from the hotel he had stayed at closer. It wasn't stealing, he fully intended to return it before catching the flight to Beacon. The thick fabric offered a comforting warmth against the cool night air. Jaune shuffled a little, Crocea Mors digging into his side. He didn't dare remove the blade from his side, to afraid of accidentally losing the blade. And then where would he be?

Stuck in the middle of Vale, defenseless, with nowhere to go. Not to mention the humiliation he would face at Beacon. Who shows up to the world's greatest hunting school with no weapon?

A gunshot rang through the night, the sound coming from further down the alley. He was up in an instant, tripping over the blankets as he did so. Was it stupid to run towards a gunshot? Yes. Was it likely to result in him being harmed? Most likely. But someone could be hurt, and he couldn't, as an Arc and a future hero, stand by and do nothing. So he ran down the alley. He didn't know what he might be able to do to help, but he knew he had to do something.

What he found wasn't a pretty picture, but more or less what he expected. A man in a white suite and black hat laid against a wall, left hand clutching a bleeding wound over his heart. Honestly, he was surprised the man was still alive. Near the man's feet, lying in a pool of its owners blood, was a white cane.

"Oh my god," He whispered, eyes wide, before rushing towards the fallen man. "Mister, are you alright?" He kneeled by the man. Inwardly he winced, that had to be the stupidest thing he had ever said, ever.

"That," the man wheezed out, turning his head to look at him, "has got to be one of the stupidest things I have ever heard. No, I am not alright." He wheezed out, words filled with contempt. "I'm dying." There was heat behind those words, even as he whispered them, almost as though he couldn't believe them.

He felt his face flush. "I'm sorry, it's just… look, is there any way I can…" He finally got a good look at the man's face. Orange hair, one visible dark green eye traced with eyeliner. "You're Roman Torchwick!" He gasped. He knew who Roman was, who didn't? He was the most well known thief in all of Remnant, having committed a major theft in every major city in the world, and escaping each time. Police all over the world had tried and failed to bring the man in, even some of the most well known and respected Hunters had failed to catch the crook. And here he was, lying in an alley, dying.

Roman laughed sarcastically, tipping his hat with his free hand. "In the flesh." The crook slumped further into the wall, "Though not for much longer." He mused darkly, eye drifting away for a moment. "I suppose you'll be leaving me to my fate now?" He sounded, resigned, as though the answer was obvious. And he supposed, in a way, it was. Most people would probably leave Roman to his fate, claiming the career criminal deserved it. And a tiny bit of him agreed.

And he hated that.

"No," Jaune shook his head viciously. The one eye he could see widened. "I'm going to be a hero, a Huntsmen, and that means helping everyone." He sighed, "Even criminals like you." He held a hand out towards the man, "Maybe I can get you to a hospital. There could still be time."

The dying criminal let out a pained laugh, waving away his offered hand, "A little late for that, kiddo. There's nothing you, or any other so-called hero, could do to save me." He snorted, "I never thought the ride would end, if I'm being honest." He snorted, a smirk flashing across his face. "Me, honest." He laughed. "I've lied to more people than you've probably ever met, I've come close to death a hundred times, and always escaped. Somehow I always thought I'd live forever, and now that I'm dying…" He trailed off, a resigned look upon his face. "Well, lets just say I don't think I'll be enjoying myself where I'm going."

It left a bitter taste in his mouth to stand by and literally watch the man die. But what else could he do? The only thing he could do was be there with him. Nobody, no matter how awful they were in life, deserved to die alone.

Roman gasped, and clutched his wound tighter. He could have sworn there was a bit of a flash over the spot. "Won't be long now, my aura's starting to run out."

"Aura?" What the hell was that? And why was he looking at him as though he had grown a second head? "What?"

Roman stared at him for a moment, "You really don't know, do you?" He let out a bitter laugh. "And you want to be a Huntsmen? You won't last ten minutes! Even that brat in red has aura, and here you are." He laughed a bit. "A wanna be hero kneeling next to dieing crook. One loosing aura fast, and the other without a clue as to what it is. There's irony in there somewhere, but for the life of me," He chuckled as he said it, "I can't find it."

The white clad criminal mastermind seemed to drift into thought for a moment, before gesturing Jaune towards him. "Come here, I need to touch you if this is going to work."

"If what's going to work?" Jaune asked hesitantly.

The crook rolled his eyes, "Now you choose to be cautious." He sighed, "I'm going to unlock your Aura, you'll need it if you want to be a Hunter." He said the word like it was a curse, and maybe to him it was. "Maybe by doing this I can grease the hand of whatever god is out there. Stack the deck in my favor with one final good deed."

Jaune was still a bit hesitant, but moved closer to Roman. What could it hurt? The man was dying, honestly should probably already be dead, and just wanted to have a final shot at redemption. Or at least fake it. And honestly, if Aura was as important as he was making it out to be, this was for the best. He didn't want to draw attention to himself and his less than credible transcripts if he could help it.

Roman placed one hand on Jaunes shoulder, closed his eyes and focused. "For it is in our notoriety that we achieve immortality, through this we climb above all others to claim our place in history. Infinite in potential and unbound by laws, I release your soul, and by my hand, set thee free."

Jaune stood fully as his body shone brightly in the night as his soul was released. He stared at himself, turning his hands to get a better look. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. A new strength flooded through his body, filling him with a sense of self he had never known before. Everything was clearer, sharper, more real than it had been a moment before.

"This is, this is _amazing_!" He turned back to Roman, "This..." He choked as he gazed at the crook.

Romans body lied still, chest unmoving, and arm laid out where it fell. Roman Torchwick, master criminal, was dead.

" **Well, well, well, this is unexpected**." Romans smug voice echoed in Jaunes head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is the much anticipated second chapter. I very much hope that you enjoy it. Thank you everyone who reviewed the previous chapter, I shall send a response to everyone that I am able to reach soon.**

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It was with a hint of reluctance and self-loathing that Jaune handed over a stack of lien to the lady behind the counter. A stack of lien, he might note, that was almost double what he had initially brought with him to Vale. And it wasn't even a sixth of the amount he now carried in his pocket thanks to Roman. The dead but in his head criminal had been all to willing to direct him to a safe house filled with money, and a few other things he rather not think about. It was with a quick word of thanks that he took his four bags and walked out the store.

He had thought about asking Roman where the money had come from, and apparently he had thought to loud because the crook had answered.

" **Why, from a bank of course.** " Roman had cheekily supplied. It took longer than he would have liked to admit to realize he hadn't withdrawn it lawfully.

Roman's laughter had echoed in his head for a good four minutes.

Honestly, it was so obvious he should have picked up on it immediately. Of course the criminal stole his money, why shouldn't he? And now here Jaune was, using it to buy more huntsmen worthy clothes. He tried to console himself with the fact the money was being spent on legal things instead of black market weapons or drugs or whatever criminals buy.

He casually entered the hotel he was staying in. It was a step up from the one he had first stayed in when he came to Vale, Roman insisting that they stay in a place up to his standards. Jaune had wanted to argue, but Vales former finest thief had pointed out he had lien to burn now; why not use it? If he was being honest, he had agreed more to get him to shut up than anything. Having Roman's voice in his head was strange and unnerving. It was nothing like in a movie where it was normal speech with maybe an echo. No, when Roman spoke it was like it was his own thought, just knowing what the criminal wanted to say. There weren't even really words, just the idea of words. The only way he could differentiate Roman's thoughts from his own was that the criminals thoughts felt like him.

And honestly? It kind of scared him.

" **You know, you don't seem very appreciative of my gift, kid.** " Roman chided in his head, " **Here I am, graciously allowing you to use my hard earned lien…** "

"Stolen." He muttered aloud. Sure he could just think a reply, but speaking aloud made it feel much more normal for the teen. And he needed all the normalcy he could get. The young wanna-be huntsmen waved awkwardly to the lady behind the reception desk.

" _ **Hard earned**_." Jaune could just imagine Romans smirk. Or maybe he was seeing it? The man was in his head, so maybe his imagination when it came to Roman was the real deal? The blond grabbed his head with his free hand, groaning; this whole thing made his head hurt. " **Going out of my way to get you some half decent equipment so you don't get yourself killed trying to be a damn huntsmen.** " Roman scoffed, Jaune knew what he thought of huntsmen, the man had made his position clear in the short time the two had been together.

He thought they were all idiots.

The idea of risking your life for little to no reward just didn't click with the selfish criminal. Never-mind the potential to save another's life, if their wasn't any profit to it, the man didn't want to hear it. Of course, he was more than happy to wave them off to go hunt the Grimm, but only because it meant less risk of him being caught.

" **And I don't hear a word of thanks.** " Roman sighed sarcastically, " **Some hero, doesn't even know to show some basic courtesy. Honestly, I fear for the future if people like you are to defend us.** "

Jaune groaned as he opened the elevator door, setting his bags on the floor, pushing the button to take him to the top floor. Again, Roman had insisted on the best. He really shouldn't complain, the room was great, but knowing that he was using stolen money kind of tainted it for him. Not enough for him to consider going back out into the cold and filthy alleys, though.

"I might thank you if I understood why I need all this." Jaune complained, taking a rather nice red collared shirt from one of the bags. "I mean, this is nice, but how is it supposed to protect me better than my armor?" He felt it was a fair question, but Roman's laughter crushed that thought.

" **Kid, you're wearing what amounts to papier-mâché and duct tape in this dangerous world of ours.** " Roman snorted. " **It's fine for a civilian, but for someone who plans on getting into even a scuffle with a rent-a-cop? You'd be torn to pieces.** "

The elevator door opened, letting a distracted girl with long white hair in. Jaune dropped the shirt he was holding and smiled weakly, pushing his bags back to give her some space. She rolled her eyes, saying nothing, and selected a floor irritably, tapping her foot impatiently as the doors closed. Idly, he noted that her wallet was sticking out of her purse a little. He turned away, feeling Roman's interest. That was another thing that bothered him about their, for lack of a better term, bond. He got a vague sense of whatever it was that Roman felt at the moment. Nothing really intense, just vague senses of things like amusement, boredom, intrigue. Still, he had to wonder if it might lead to Roman manipulating his emotions without his knowing.

 _Why would I get into a fight with a rent-a-cop in the first place?_ He inquired, a tad confused. He might have figured it out on his own, had he not been distracted by his arm suddenly going numb.

" **You're missing the point,** " The feeling returning to his hand as the thief spoke. " **You'd be lucky to survive a swipe from even a baby Beowulf with what you have on now. But the stuff in the bags? They were** _ **made**_ **to be worn in a fight. There is a reason they are called hunter grade clothing, kiddo. That shirt you were holding is basically bullet proof up to a certain caliber, of course.** "

His eyes widened, _What? How! That thing is thinner than my hoodie and felt like silk!_

" **Short answer? Dust.** "

 _And the long answer?_ Jaune asked, huffing, a tad annoyed by the crooks answer.

" **Is something you really should know, 'Mister Hero'.** " The rouge drawled, " **Look, all you have to know is that any combination of clothing from these bags are better than what you have now.** "

 _Even the pajamas?_ He inquired with a grumble.

" **No. Those are because no self-respecting man would be caught dead wearing the monstrous thing you used to wear.** " Revulsion practically dripped from his words.

 _Hey, those were comfy!_ Jaune shouted defiantly into his own head.

" **And a blight upon the human race. Trust me kid, I'm doing you a favor here.** " The elevator doors opened, allowing the white haired girl to stomp out. " **If anybody saw you in that hideous thing, you'd be a laughing stalk. And that wouldn't be good for your image as a hunter.** " The doors closed slowly, and the elevator ascended towards Jaune's floor. " **Or as a gentleman thief, if you ever wisen up and pick the smarter path.** "

Jaune blinked, _How is that the smarter path?_ The doors slide open once more, and the blonde Arc grabbed his bags and stepped out onto his floor. The room he had rented was one of two on the floor, taking up the entirety of the left side. It was a bit much for his tastes, but it was really, _really_ cool to stay in such a fancy room. It even came with a fruit basket! Not that he ate any, but the basket was nice.

" **Because you have a longer life expectancy, higher income, and a much higher job satisfaction than as a hunter. Just look at this room! You couldn't afford this as a hunter.** "

"But," Jaune began, closing the door and setting down his bags, "you're dead." Jaune winced as he felt a flash of . . . something. It was hard to describe, and unfamiliar. Taking a breath, he grabbed his bags and took them to his room.

" **Way to just say it, kid. You don't like to beat around the bush, do you?** " The criminal muttered. " **Yes I died. I was stabbed in the back by my employer for fumbling a recent job. Not that it was my fault, those rent-a-thugs were incompetent as hell.** **And then there was Little Red.** " The criminal voice in his mind grummbled.

"You were going to explain why these clothes make my armor look like a bunch of wet paper?" Jaune asked, cutting the man off before he could get into a rant.

Roman coughed, or the mental equivalent, composing himself. " **Right. Since it seems you lack even the most basic of knowledge on this, allow dear Uncle Roman to fill you in.** " Jaune scowled, but couldn't deny the man's claim. " **Hunter grade clothing, such as what you have here, is made with a specialized Dust, woven into the fabric. You do know about Dust, don't you? Or am I going to have to explain that to you as well 'Mister Hero'?** "

"I know what Dust is, Roman. Everyone does." The teen replied with a scowl. He wasn't _that_ dumb.

" **Good, good. Just had to make sure that you knew** _ **some**_ **of the basics. Well, this Dust enhances the material to a point where it might as well be armor. Without the weight to drag you down. How else do you think Huntresses can get away with wearing skirts and dresses into combat?** " He snorted, giving off an amused feeling, " **Couple that with Aura and you could go out fighting grimm in a tuxedo and be as safe as if you were wearing a full set of armor.** "

Jaune had to give him that. While he wasn't one to judge people based on their appearance, he had often wondered what was going through a few Huntresses head when they chose their combat outfit. Sure what they wore looked good, but he had always thought it was silly how little in the way of armor they wore. Though, with Roman's information, he was the one feeling silly for doubting them in the first place.

"That's actually really cool! I had no idea…" And there it was. He had no idea that such a thing was possible. How stupid would he have looked, how much unneeded attention would he have gained, had he asked why someone about it later?

He felt amusement from Roman, " **I think we already established that, kid. Are you sure you want to be a Hunter? 'Cause, it seems to me that you don't know anything about being one.** "

The teen frowned, "Of course I'm sure I want to be a Huntsmen, it's been my dream since I was a kid. To be a hero like my dad, and his dad, and his dad's dad. I thought I had an idea of what it would be like, but apparently there's a lot I don't know or was never told. But that's why I'm going to Beacon, so I can learn to be a hero."

" **Do you really think it will be that simple? Just show up at one of the world's most prestigious school's without knowing a damn thing? You have balls kid, but you're an idiot.** " Roman chided with a scoff. " **I don't know how you got into Beacon, and I don't care. But you don't have the skill or the knowledge. And they are going to pick up on that faster than I'd pick a safe.** " He laughed, " **Hell, I could tell you had no training while I was bleeding out. So listen, give up on being a hero, and follow me. I can help you become the top dog of this city, we can take over my old empire of crime and rule as king's! You think this room's nice? In a few weeks and a bit of hard work you could own this place.** " If Roman had a body he would be holding out his hand. " **Make the smart choice kid, I know you have a brain.** "

There was something there, underneath a surface of amusement -smugness?- and anticipation. Just like all of Roman's emotions it was vague and ill defined. But if Jaune had to name it, he'd say it was almost like dread, but more yearning?

It didn't really matter.

Jaune didn't even have to think about it. "Thanks' for the offer Roman, but no. I'm not a criminal." Annoyance and anger danced at the edge of his awareness, but Jaune ignored it. Roman could be as mad as he wanted, but it wouldn't change his mind. He came to Vale to become a Hero, the exact opposite of what Roman wanted. And he would do it, he would find a way.

Roman didn't respond, seeming to pull into himself. It was a blessing for Jaune, as he was plagued with a sudden headache. Maybe Roman talking for so long had side affects, or maybe it was the situation, but it felt like he had been whacked by a cane in the head. He rubbed his temples, before getting to work sorting his purchases.

Setting the three heaviest bags on the bed, he opened the fourth and lightest and withdrew a large duffel bag. The backpack he had originally brought sat atop a dresser, it's contents looking pitifully few when compared to his new purchases. He gave it a sad smile, honestly it was a wonder how he thought he could make it through school with its meager contents. He may have been able to get by, but it would require him to do an awful lot of laundry. And even then he would probably have to explain why he arrived with barely anything. The more he thought of it, the more he felt a certain amount of gratefulness for Roman's assistance.

But not enough to consider a life of crime.

From the depths of his bags he withdrew and folded clothing, before organizing them into his duffel. Underwear, socks and undershirts were quickly sorted in, followed by pants and shirts. Honestly, what he had looked similar to his current attire, only with a bit of variety. Along with blue, he also had grey and black pants, and a practical rainbow of shirts. He even had a new hoodie, so he didn't run the risk of accidentally ruining his special Pumpkin Pete one in a fight! More and more clothes, and some toiletries, were carefully packed away into the duffel until it was completely filled. Soon there was only one thing left in the bags.

A woman's wallet sat innocently at the bottom of his bag.

"What the hell!"

" **What was that about not being a criminal again?** "

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In a dark alley near the docks, one of the most feared individuals in the city of vale stood over a cadaver, shaking in rage. They said nothing, and beyond the trembling of their body, one wouldn't know anything was wrong.

But something was wrong. Very wrong.

Roman Torchwick was dead, and Neapolitan was pissed beyond belief.

Slowly, very slowly, she brought a hand to the dead man's face, tracing it gently with a shaking hand. With care, she turned the bodies head to the side, getting a clear view of the mans neck. She ran one hand down the neck, stopping at a point just before the shoulders. Her mismatched eyes narrowed into slits.

With less care than before, but still with restraint, she opened the jacket and shirt to inspect the bullet wound. She sneered at the wound, a glance all she needed to confirm her suspicions. She returned shirt and jacket to how they were.

Slowly she stood, inspecting the scene of the crime. Nothing escaped her notice. Not the slight burn mark on the brick wall, not the chip of green paint on the ground, and definitely not the footprint in the blood made mud.

Someone had just made the biggest mistake of their now much shorter life.

All was still in the dirty little alley near the docks. A curious cat, bell jingling on it's collar, stalked up to the still figure of Neo. It cried at the woman, demanding attention that she did not give. It paced back and forth, and did not attract her attention. With a cautious paw it swiped at the woman's leg, determined to grab her attention and possible affection.

It took off running as the woman and body burst into glass, leaving nothing but an empty alley behind.

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 **The next chapter will be sometime next month, though hopefully sooner than this one. It shall also lead into the short but much loved initiation arc that everyone loves seeing.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the delay, enjoy.**

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Pink and brown eyes narrowed in concentration as their diminutive owner carefully aimed her flaming arrow at a wooden boat slowly sailing away. The owner of said boat lay unconscious in his home, trussed up like a turkey with his family. With precision near-unparalleled, the flaming arrow was released, and struck funeral pyre set upon the boat. With a speed only capable due to the excessive amount of fire dust aboard the ship, taken from Cinder's stash, the boat was covered in flames.

Neopolitan did not smile at the sight of the burning boat as she might have done where it any other day, nor did smirk at the thought of just how irked Cinder would be to find her high value dust missing. No, the mute's mouth was a straight line, her face a blank mask that let nothing slip.

She watched the Councilman's personal vessel burn until it was far out of sight, taking it's precious cargo away in a blaze of glory. Even an hour after it was assuredly sunk by the fire damage did she stand on the dock, just staring out into the ocean. It wasn't until her scroll starting barking that she moved.

It was a message from Cinder, as she knew it was. She had set the ringtone of each of her contacts to match their personalities. It had seemed appropriate.

The flame using bitch wanted her to meet her at an warehouse on the other side of Vale. The tri-colored young woman tilted her head, the color of her eyes switching as she did. She fingered the hat resting atop her head as a thoughtful look adorned her face. She began to casually walk down the dock towards the Councilman's home, the lighter she had used on the arrow in hand.

The young thief and enforcers form shimmered for a minute, before it was replaced by a tall Faunus bearing a white, Grimm-like, mask. Entering the home, she sneered at the now conscious family, before setting the overly lavish curtains on fire with her lighter. Job done, she exited the building, before sending an anonymous text to the local fire department. The lives of those in the building were of no concern to her, but blaming the whole affair on the White Fang would make people ask less questions.

Plus, it was what Roman would have done.

Her form returned to it's glorious self as she stepped into the car waiting for her at the properties entrance. She flashed the driver, one of Juniors boy's she had 'hired', the address Cinder had sent her. The man nodded and, thankfully, began driving in silence. The young woman once again adopted a thoughtful look as she considered her scroll, currently displaying a picture of Cinder and her lackeys. Her eyes danced from one figure to the next, as though searching for some answer in the photograph.

Minutes passed as the car slowly made its way to its destination. They passed hotels and houses, bakeries and banks. It was as they were passing a bookstore that Neo shrugged and grinned wildly. Using the editing tool on the photo, her finger danced across the image as she drew. When she finished, she tossed the scroll onto the seat and leaned back and smirked widely.

It was only when the driver arrived at his destination that he realized something was wrong. The Neo in the back of the car was oddly still, and didn't he built up the nerve to touch the girl, she shattered into millions of pieces, leaving only the scroll behind.

And the image upon it of a crudely drawn Neo holding her parasol, with the images of Cinder and her crew covered in blood and x's over their eyes.

* * *

Weiss Schnee.

That was the name of the girl that owned the wallet that had somehow ended up in his bag. The rather rude girl from the elevator. The same one who was likely very upset that she couldn't access her room right now. You know, 'cause he had her key-card? And her lien. And her I.D.

And credit card. The essentials.

" **And here I thought you weren't a criminal. Any other secrets you're keeping from dear Uncle Roman, hmm? Perhaps the wallet of the President of the SDC to go with the heiresses?** " Roman commented infuriatingly smug.

Jaune worried at his lip. "I'm not!" He denied, tossing the wallet onto his bed. "I don't know how it got here!" He began pacing, hand opening and closing in time to his steps. "Last I saw it, it was in her bag in the elevator." His eye's widened, before narrowing. That was the first place he had seen it and the girl, and the last until he had found it in his bag. He remembered Roman's interest in it and the loss of feeling in his arm. The teen stopping his pacing as he glared at the wallet. "It was you."

" **What?** " The master thief asked in mock shock.

"You took it! I don't know how, but you stole her wallet when we were in the elevator." He knew it, and it terrified and angered him. It was something much scarier than hearing Roman's thoughts or feeling his emotions. It was a loss of control. If Roman could somehow control him, well.

He had read enough comic books to know where this was heading.

But he wouldn't let that happen. This was his body, and he refused to give it up. He wouldn't become a puppet for the ghost inside him to use. And he sure as hell wouldn't be used for any more crimes.

Amusement meet anger in his mind, " **Cool your jets kid. I don't know what you're thinking, not at the moment at least, but I can guess.** " If Roman had a face he'd be smirking. " **You probably think I'm planning on taking over your skinny ass, aren't you?** " Roman's laughing voice echoed in Jaune's head. " **Don't answer, it's obvious. However, this may surprise you but,** " That smirk that may or may not be widened. " **I've already tried.** " Roman's voice taunted, much too amused for Jaune's liking.

"You what!" Jaune shouted in surprised horror, eyes widened and mouth agape.

" **Relax,** " The crook drawled, " **it's not as though it worked. Nor was it intentional. I tried to move when I first got in your noggin, confused as hell as to where I was.** " The master criminal snorted, " **Couldn't twitch a finger.** "

Jaune clenched his fist, before pointing dramatically at the wallet lying innocently on the bed. "Then how the hell did you grab it!"

If Roman could, he would have shrugged. " **I don't know for sure, but I have an idea.** "

Jaune dropped onto the bed, causing the wallet to bounce. Glaring up at the ceiling, Jaune waved his hand vaguely in the air. "Care to share?"

" **Ooh, snippy. Not very hero like, kiddo.** " Roman mocked, " **You should work on that since you are so determined to be one.** "

"I'm sure Beacon has classes. Now, care to share?"

" **Fine, fine. Kids these days, don't have any patients. If I had to guess, I'd say that the reason I was able to grab little Miss Riches wallet was because you were distracted.** "

"Distracted," Jaune said blandly. "I was distracted so you got to use my arm to commit a crime."

" **Well, it's not like you were using it,** " Roman responded flippantly.

It was hard, Jaune idly noted, to decide where to look when speaking with someone in his mind. It also made a number of rude looks and gestures meaningless. "So because I wasn't using my arm at the moment, you were able to just swoop in and use it? Then why didn't you do anything while I was sleeping last night." His eyes widened, "You didn't make me do anything last night, right?" The blonde half asked, half begged the voice in his head.

Roman's response took longer than he would have liked.

" **No.** " Jaune sighed in relief. " **I tried, but it was like trying to lift a cargo crate without any tools.** " Annoyance flowed with the criminals words, assuring Jaune that they were true. That or Roman was annoyed that his joy-riding with Jaune's body might have been figured out.

He chose to believe Roman was telling the truth. It was much more comforting.

"Why, though? This doesn't make sense!" Jaune sat up in a furry, standing before pacing. "Why could you control my arm then and not when I was asleep? Hell, how could you control my arm at all? No, better question." He glared at himself in the mirror above the nearby dresser. "How are you in my head in the first place?"

Amusement washed over the aspiring huntsman. " **Finally asking the big question.** " Roman praised mockingly, " **It only took you what, twelve, fourteen hours?** " The outlaw snorted, " **I can see you will do excellently as a Huntsmen.** " There was a moment of silence, " **That was sarcasm, by the way. Just wanted to make sure you caught that.** "

"I did," Jaune growled out. There was just something about the man that set the Arc on edge.

" **Good, just wanted to make sure those of us who are a bit, slower, were up to speed**." It's amazing how much mockery could be put into so few words. " **Anyway, the short answer is aura.** "

Jaune rubbed his temples, "And the long?" He could only hope to whatever deity was listening that this wouldn't become a trend.

" **Also aura.** " The thief cheerfully replied. " **But with a bit more words and a lengthy explanation. The long and short of it is, since I was using my aura, the manifestation of my soul, to unlock yours when I died, my soul basically hitched a ride to survive.** "

It sounded reasonable enough to Jaune. Almost like something out of a comic book, or a movie. But, then again, so did a mystical force field powered by the soul. He really didn't have anything to go by when it came to aura. Hell, he hadn't even heard of it until last night. Not even in his father's or grandfather's stories. Actually, now that he thought about it, what was that all about? One would think that they would mention something as important as aura when telling tales of their past deeds.

Unless, of course, it was something that they thought was so obvious to know that they forgot to mention it. Yeah, that was it. They just thought it was something so obvious to have that they never bothered to mention it in their nighttime stories. Just a minor detail they left out. Or maybe they did it on purpose, to make the dangerous bits more exciting. That was it, it had to be.

Suddenly, Jaune didn't feel comfortable in the bedroom. Hurriedly, the teen exited the room, nearly tripping over Roman's cane, which had been left on the floor the previous night. With an oath, he stumbled out into the hallway and moved into the living room of the suite. The room was large, far larger than it strictly needed to be. A few seats, chairs and sofas and the like, dotted the room. A long coffee table sat in the middle bearing a large fruit basket and complimentary magazines. The far right wall was dominated by a painting of the Atlas skyline, and near that was a small but functional kitchen. The left wall was dominated by a large television, Jaune swore it was at least three times larger than the one at home.

Jaune ignored the room, for the most part, making his way to the balcony overlooking Vale. He took a moment to bask in the sunlight, before moving towards the edge. There was a nice wind blowing, pushing his hair and carrying the scent of the nearby sea. It was a stunning view, from where he was standing, he could see the great city stretching into the distance. Buildings stretching into the heavens all around, with people wandering the streets below. Bullheads could be seen flying here and there. His eyes eventually fell on the majestic sight of Beacon in the distance. The great school stood tall against the skyline, a sign of peace and hope for the citizens of Vale. It was as he stared at his destination, that a worrying thought occurred to him.

"Is this common, Roman?" Jaune asked hesitantly. If this was a common thing, something that happened enough to not be considered impossible, then someone might be able to tell Roman was in his head. And, well, he wouldn't blame them for taking a closer look at his transcripts after realizing that his aura had been unlocked so recently. Oh, and the fact that he had a criminal in his head would make anyone suspicious.

Roman's response was slow to come, " **No. In fact, I've never heard of something like this ever happening before.** "

Jaune felt a roller coaster of emotions suddenly surge through him, though mainly it was relief and confused anger. Relief that it would be unlikely someone would be able to tell that Roman was in his head, and anger and confusion over Roman's explanation to their situation.

"Then how do you know how this happened?" Jaune whispered into the breezee. The young man suddenly felt very tired. A lot had happened in a small amount of time and it was finally hitting him. Even the few hours of sleep he had gotten had only delayed it all. He had seen a man _die_. Even if the same man was now in some kind of limbo in his head, it didn't change the fact that he was dead.

" **It's an educated guess, really.** " The dead man admitted, " **When you found me, the only thing keeping me tied to life was my aura. My** _ **soul**_ **.** " Jaune could feel the emphasis, and winced a little. It's spurned a bit of guilt within the boy. " **And I used that last bit of it to awaken your own. Without it, my body died. Now, normally when someone unlocks another's aura, they basically just give it a good kick to get it going. It can be tiring if the others aura is large enough, but you don't lose any aura. This is because it naturally returns to your body.** " Roman paused, " **Are you keeping up?** " He drawled out. Jaune rolled his eyes and nodded. Roman got the gesture, apparently he saw what Jaune saw, and continued on. " **Good, you pick up on things quickly. At least you have** _ **that**_ **going for you.** " Jaune sighed, complement with an insult, can't have one without the other. " **The thing about aura is, when you die it's gone. Now, here's where our situation, and my theory comes in. I put my aura into you to unlock yours, and died. Now, that aura suddenly found that it had nowhere to go. So, I believe, that with nowhere to go it stayed in you. And since it was all that was left of me, I woke up in your head.** "

Jaune was silent, and for a moment all that could be heard on the balcony was the sound of the city below. He really didn't know what to say, it was more or less the same as what he had been told before, just with more words and a bit of background information. And he once again could not deny that it made a bit of sense. Really, how could he argue it when he was speaking with the soul of a dead man? Not to mention that he really didn't have any knowledge to counter Roman's theory. It was all too much for Jaune, who let out a moan.

"I'm going to bed." He said it more for himself than for Roman. He didn't need all this drama. He didn't need to drive himself mad over thinking his situation. It was just like Grandpa Arc used to say; 'Sometime's you just got to take the world as it presents itself and move on.' Well, the world had put Roman in his head, and he didn't see anyway he could get rid of him. Maybe something would come up at Beacon, but until then, Jaune would just have to accept it and move on. Really, was that any different than what he had been doing already?

He moved back through the living room back towards the bedroom, rubbing his hand through his hair. Jaune took a moment to clean off the bed, putting his duffel bag on the dresser for easy access in the morning and tossing the shopping bags into a corner. When he came across the wallet, Weiss Schnee's wallet, he hesitated. He wasn't sure what to do with it. He could give it back, he knew the girl was staying in the hotel, but that meant he would have to explain _how_ he came to have it. He wasn't a very good liar, and she would think he was crazy if he told her the truth. He sighed and put it next to his duffel. Maybe he would get lucky and be able slip it back into her purse on when he left for Beacon. Or he could hand it over to the police later, say he found it on the street.

With a sigh he fell onto the bed, not even bothering to change out of his clothes.

* * *

This, this was his punishment for all the wrongs he had done. Taking the money Roman offered, stealing that wallet, his 'admittance' into Beacon. All of it. He wasn't much of a religious person, in fact he didn't even know any, but right now he was sure whatever god was out there was laughing at him. Jaune moaned pitifully as he staggered throughout the damnable machine he was forced to ride in. Why were there no seats in this damn thing? Really, who designs a transport without anywhere to rest? Was it a test, or just the universe's way of spiting him?

He pointedly ignored Roman, who was moaning about Jaune's moaning. He couldn't help his motion sickness, everyone in his family had it. His youngest sister couldn't even ride a bike because of it. Luckily, the flight from the Vale air-docks to Beacon was fairly short. Fifteen minutes at most, with the majority of flights only being ten, or so the pamphlet he had read promised. A quick glance at the time shown on the bottom of the news, which was being played for some odd reason, showed he had around seven more minutes of torture.

"... _searching for notorious criminal Roman Torchwick…"_ Jaune turned away from the broadcast, he already knew all he wanted about Roman. Besides, his dad had always told him that he couldn't trust anything the Vale News Network said. Apparently they were just a mouthpiece for the council.

With a groan, the huntsmen hopeful turned his mind to other things. Or at least he tried to, as a sudden, slight bout of turbulence sent his stomach flipping. The wannabe-knight covered his mouth with his hands, praying to delay the inevitable. He cursed himself for forgetting to buy more pills for his condition, but in his excitement he had completely forgotten.

And it looked like he was about to pay the price.

With unsteady steps he hurried towards the nearest restroom, doing the best to ignore the snickering and snide comments made by others. For a moment he dared to hope he would make it, but it was not to be. With a great heave, he emptied his stomach onto the floor of the Bullhead. He moaned as he stood back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Eww! Yang, it's on your shoe!" A voice cried in disgust.

Jaune turned, and with mounting horror, saw that his vomit had slowly made its way towards two girls a little ways behind him. It was a certain amount of guilt and embarrassment that he realised that, yes, it had gotten onto one of their shoes. He winced, if that had happened to one of his sisters, well, it wouldn't have been pretty.

He still couldn't look at boots the same way.

The best thing to do would be to immediately apologise, and Jaune made to do so, however it was at that moment that they docked at Beacon. Caught in the flood of prospective students, Jaune soon lost sight of the two girls. With a sigh he shifted his duffel on his shoulder and made his way off the ship.

Beacon was much, much more impressive up close.

It towered above them all like a fortress, vast and imposing. The highest point, a large tower that stood unopposed by the much shorter structures near it. Everything seemed to be rather circular, from the buildings to the walls. That was probably done on purpose, and if it wasn't then he really didn't know what to grounds were rather wide and allowed for many, many plants to be spread across the extensive courtyard ahead. Trees dotted the campus, with flowers and bushes easily spotted even from his spot near the Bullhead. It was easily the most beautiful and intimidating school he had ever seen.

And there goes his stomach again.

The teen rushed towards the nearest trash can, glad to at least not be throwing up on the floor, again. Where someone could step in it, again.

" **You know, it's actually kind of impressive.** " Roman remarked casually as Jaune finished emptying his stomach into the trash can.

"What is?" Jaune groaned, as he leaned on the trash can, head bent.

" **The fact that you managed to gain a horrible reputation before you even arrived at this shining death trap.** " The dead man laughed, " **I bet you get an embarrassing nickname, something to haunt you forever. Something like 'The Blond Barfing Buffoon' or 'Sir Up of Chuck'. Though that last one might have worked better if you still wore that armor of yours. Though the sword and shield might do, so there is still hope.** "

Jaune glared into the garbage, "Oh shut up." He might have said something more about it, if not for a sudden explosion not to far away. "What was that?" Jaune shouted, hand fumbling for his sword, before relaxing a bit when he noticed no one nearby was at all concerned. Still, he was curious and began to make his way towards the explosion site.

" **Yes, let's make our way** _ **towards**_ **the explosion.** " He could practically feel the sarcasm, " **Well, at least you think like a bloody huntsmen.** "

Jaune chose to take that as a complement, smirking a bit as he made his way towards the rapidly clearing dust cloud made by the earlier explosion. As he got closer, he was able to make out the form of the girl who had been standing near the girl whose shoes had gotten some puke on them. She seemed to be alright, no visible injuries at least, and lying on the ground. Her color choice, red and black, reminded him of his youngest sister.

" **Oh, there is no way I am** _ **that**_ **unlucky.** " Roman spat out, anger radiating from the spirit in Jaune's head. " **Though of course it would have to be her. Listen, leave the brat alone to sleep or sulk or whatever the hell she's doing. Trust me, you don't want to get involved with her.** "

It wasn't that Jaune was intentionally ignoring Roman's, well he hesitated to call it advice. It was more of a strongly worded suggestion with the subtext being 'do as I say or I'll make you regret it'. However, he had been raised to help those he could, and he just knew his mother would skin him if she found out he walked by a girl lying on the floor without making sure she was okay. Also, the fact he was almost certain it would annoy Roman.

"Hi, I'm Jaune."

" **Fuck you kid.** "

* * *

 **Again, terribly sorry for the delay, though I hope this chapter was satisfactory.**


End file.
